Try again (don't turn it off)
by The Readers Muse
Summary: Everyone got one. That was the deal he'd made himself.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

**Authors Note #1:** Written in response to the rampant butthurt currently going on in certain areas of the fandom since 5x09 in regards our dear, sweet Noah. *This storyis basically a re-write of the end of "Coda" because it seems as though the only way Noah can 'redeem' himself in their suspicious little eyeballs is if he can magically fix all the problems ever.

**Warnings:** Depending on how you read it, it could be a bit Boah-ish but is mostly general. *****Contains: spoilers for Coda and allusions to 5x09, adult language, adult content, violence, blood and gore. This particular story revolves around the idea that Noah has the secret ability to go back in time and change past events. Only thing is, he can only rewind one minute and fifteen seconds into the past. And he can only do it once within a twenty-four hour period.

**Try Again (don't turn it off)**

Everyone got one.

That was the deal he'd made himself.

He knew it sounded cheesy.

Like something out of those comic books his brothers (okay, him too) liked to read.

But it was what it was.

He didn't know how it worked.

Or how it was possible.

Hell, he didn't even know when it'd started.

All he did know is that, with a blink and a burst of concentration, he could make time re-shape. He could make people scuttle back to where they'd originally been. He could pause the world at a pivotal moment and change everything. Sometimes. Like he said, he didn't know exactly how it worked.

_One minute and fifteen seconds._

_That's all he gets._

Sometimes it isn't long enough to do anything.

Like not being able to save Mr. Swanellston from walking out into traffic in his pajamas during rush hour – confused and frantic - two years before the world fell apart. Like not being able to stop his Uncle from driving drunk and killing that couple out walking on New Year's Eve five years before that.

But sometimes it's just long enough.

Long enough to pull everything back – heart hammering in his chest. Long enough to rush forward and slide a chair underneath her when his mother started fanning herself in the kitchen, flushed and out of breath, only two months before the twins were due. Long enough to grab the phone while he forced her to sit. Ignoring her nonplussed expression and frantic questions as he dialed 911 and told them she was going into premature labor, blood pressure spiking.

It wasn't until the news started reporting on it. Until the National Guard was mobilized and his parents started speaking in hushed voices in the kitchen, that he realized there were rules.

He still wasn't sure if he understood them all.

But he knew the most important one.

He only had one try.

_One shot._

One last chance and that was it.

As you might expect, he'd learned that lesson the hard way.

* * *

So, when everything went bad. When the gun went off and Beth's chin snapped back –pony-tail fanning out, gentle and soft – as a flower of red blossomed out the back of her head, he squeezed his eyes shut. Hoping, _praying_, needing it to work just one more time before he felt the familiar whirl of dizziness. Fielding the peculiar sensation of the ground moving underneath his feet - despite knowing he was at a standstill - before he blinked and shook himself.

He caught the tail end as Rick and Daryl lowered their guns, expressions melting back to cool suspicion and unsteady tension before Beth hazed backwards – healthy and whole and all kinds of fierce – scissors sliding neatly back into the space between her plaster cast and the sweaty inside of her palm.

He watched the ghost of him filter backwards, pulling him back into place as Daryl and Rick stalked forward – dominant and snarling – as Dawn stood in front of them. Pale lips a firm line across severe features, not yet realizing she was playing a game where, regardless of the outcome, she couldn't win.

He was ready for it – thrumming with it – when time snapped back into place. Flooding back in a brilliant burst of color as his injured leg twinged, forcing himself to continue his walk forward as Rick and Daryl postured aggressively in front – protective and restless.

"The deal is _done_," Rick thundered.

"It's-it's okay," he replied, unable to stop the same stupid stutter as he limped forward. Quick on the mark as the seconds ticked past. Aware of each and every one as he fumbled with the Glock hidden in his waist band and pressed it into the man's hand.

"No-no!" Rick protested, arm up, a strange mix of shielding and pushing him away as he shied around it.

"I gotta do it," he explained, trying to force confidence across every inch of his expression even though inside his guts were _roiling_. Desperate for the man to know, to understand, to let him try and-

"It's _not _okay," Beth sparked, tipping forward on her toes like she was half a second from darting forward. Looking like she wanted to say something more before Dawn spoke over her.

"It's settled," Dawn remarked, not without a tinge of smugness. The others might not be able to tell, but he knew. Just like he knew every day for the rest of his life from this moment on was going to be hell – win or lose. But if he played his cards right, if he didn't run out of time, it could be more, more than just a redo for Beth, but a chance to fix all of it – _everything_.

"Wait!"

He got a few more steps in before Beth stopped him, rushing at him just like she'd done the first time, wrapping her arms around him – warm and close – reeling him in. He was weak enough to admit he melted into it, taking the comfort she offered and hoping beyond hope they might have a chance for something more – if he fixed all this - before he forced himself to focus.

He smiled, feeling like he was history repeating itself as he let out an unsteady huff of air. "It's okay," he murmured, breathing in the clean scent of her - old clothes, fresh air and hospital grade detergent – as the flat of his palm spread across the small of her back.

_God, she was so small. All that strength and fire and goodness wrapped up in one tiny little package. _

"I knew you'd be back," Dawn hummed, shattering the moment for the second time as she sidled close – like a poisonous snake half hidden in the long grass. Inflicting words like wounds as Beth looked up at her, spine stiffening, twisting against his shoulder, angry. But he held fast, pretending like he was returning the embrace as he leaned down, heart hiccuping, tense and frantic as it thudded in his chest.

_This was it._

_He had to get it right._

_Make it count._

"I know what you are going to do. But it won't work. You need to believe me. Trust me…" he whispered, almost mouthing the words into the soft of her neck as she stilled underneath him. "Whatever happens, whatever she says, don't do it, don't-"

"_Now_, Noah," Dawn hissed, fingers like claws as she pulled him forward. Sounding all kinds of pissed as she forced them to separate. Beth just blinked, uncertain, looking at him with a torn expression that he felt down to his very core as he forced himself to look away, staring over Dawn's head and toward the group crowded on the other side of the corridor.

He faked a stumble, wincing and hissing through his teeth, trying to buy himself more time as he caught Officer Shepherd's eyes and held them. Almost bowled over by the realization that he knew exactly what to say as the world around him seemed to compress. Narrowing down into a limited stream of perfect possibilities as the pressure to choose the right one grew more suffocating by the second.

"This isn't about me. It's about power. About _losing_ power," he started, voice cracking, ignoring Dawn as she turned to face him. Keeping his eyes firmly on the woman across the hall as Shepherd's stance firmed, keen eyes alert and considering as he tipped his chin up, confidence growing beyond the coiling ball of fear deep in his belly. Realizing the truth of it in real time as his words echoed strangely in the half dark of the unlit hall.

"The moment she had to_ force_ me to stay," he added, shaking his head. "The moment she made that play…that's not just stubbornness or even being petty. That's _weakness_. Having me here isn't going to fix your problems. Continuing on the way we've been here? No, it's almost over, it's toppling and all of you know it," he hissed, smacking his hand against his thigh for emphasis, not failing to notice Shepard's hand drifting quietly behind her back, reaching for something he couldn't see.

"Noah, shut-" Dawn started, raising her hand like she meant to strike him before Beth surged forward, standing beside him – shoulder to shoulder and strong.

"No one's coming and you know it!" he insisted, raising his voice as Dawn's eyes blew wide in surprise, almost looming over her now as all the frustration and anger he'd been holding onto all these months came pouring out like wine from a broken glass. "She knows it too, that's why she can't let go. That is why she won't adapt. And that is why you are all going to die!"

"_She_ is weak. That means all of you are weak. And out here, the weak don't survive…not alone," Beth spoke up, quiet and proud as Rick and Daryl came to stand on either side of them, a unified front as an unsteady hush stole through the corridor. "And you _are_ alone. You all live in the same place, but you don't live _together, _you don't _fight _together. You aren't a family."

He wasn't sure who was more surprised when Rick spoke, tone quiet but no less as biting as he rested his hand on his holster, tinged with the ghost of a promise.

"You can't make it alone out here anymore. And if you are, then what's the point?"

It wasn't until a unsteady silence fell that Shepard stepped forward, face a mis-match of pale shadow and dirty-smudges as her hair wisped out around her head like a half-formed crown – tired but no less regal.

"You're right, things have to change," she allowed, nodding towards them, determination chief in her eyes as Dawn turned, eyes narrowing, finger inching down towards the trigger of her Glock as she frowned at the group by the mouth of the corridor. "You fight together, or you die alone."

"Stand down, Shepard, you don't-"

But the other woman just shook her head – regret flashing, if only for an instant – before purpose rose up in its wake, hands twitching behind her back before-

"It's over, Dawn. It's been over for a long time. I'm sorry."

This time around, the gunshot was a surprise to everyone.

Even him.

* * *

"How did you know?" she whispered, cast rasping across the inside of his wrist as they made their way down the emergency stairs – high and sober all at once – as the others crowded around them, keeping them safe and in the center as Rick hustled them from behind, looking back every so often as if paranoid they were being followed.

"I just had a feeling," he replied, feeling about twenty feet tall as she took his hand in hers and laced their fingers together. Leading him out into the bright Georgian sunshine – grinning enough for the both of them - as a smile started flirting with the corners of his lips.

And while he wasn't one to jinx them before they got started, he had to admit that it was about damn time something went their way. Hoping against all hope that everyone could keep their asses out of trouble for at least the next twenty-four hours as they met the rest of the group in the yard, feeling Beth squeeze his hand before running straight for her sister. Crying and laughing as the sun seemed to shine down all the brighter.

Because while it wasn't exactly a happy ending, it was least a start.

Personally, he'd take a chance like that _any _day of the week.

* * *

**A/N #1: **Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – This story is now complete.


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